chapter eleven: a summer day off
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling.
A/N: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.chapter eleven: a summer day off
Weekends off are not an automatic thing, not even something she can say she usually
has. But today – well, today
, she made sure well in advance to have free.
She takes him to the park with a cooler and a worn comforter she had been able to get at a second hand shop for a few pounds (then proceeded to immediately dump in the apartment's washing machine).
Harry is still young enough that some of the simplest things delight him. They spend a morning just with some bubble mix for entertainment and he runs after the translucent spheres, grinning and yelling - “More, Tune, more!” - each time he has chased after all that he can see.
Worn out eventually, the blanket becomes a good place to nap (and her lap apparently a rather good pillow) after ham sandwiches and lemonade are devoured.
Petunia sees him, face utterly relaxed (no nightmares) and smiles as she gazes over the rest of the park, just takes a moment to relax and feel the heat of the sun on her skin. Breathes deep, tilts her head back and feels her hair (growing out past her shoulders for the first time in years) tickling her shoulder blades. Feeling at peace in this moment - she hadn’t thought she would ever feel at peace again.
Harry wakes not too long after and while he is still lethargic, in that not quite awake yet way, she sits him up in front of her and pulls the cooler over to them to bring out the last of the things inside.
Harry’s eyes go wide instantly at the sight of the cupcake with chocolate icing and rainbow sprinkles, and she pulls it away from his childishly instantly grabbing hands. She fishes out two candles and a box of matches as well – and now fascinated by what she is doing he simply watches her instead.
Petunia places the candles in the middle of the cupcake (not quite parallel, and she tries not to let it bother her - she knows Harry won't care) and lights them carefully while still holding on to Harry. She sings to him, knowing her voice shrill, but he watches her – eyes darting back in forth from the candle topped cupcake to her face - enraptured.
When the song is done she whispers, “Blow out your candles, Harry.” And he does so with gusto that makes her giggle. She carefully removes the candles and takes off the cupcake wrapper so he can eat it.
As she cleans chocolate from all over his face later Petunia thinks, perhaps she did alright for her first birthday with Harry and maybe two won’t be so terrible for them.